


Project Ink Collection - My Entries for the Unofficial Black Market PI on HEX

by M1dn1ght_Star



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Collection of my entries for fun, Gen, Hogwarts Extreme Black Market Project Ink Entries, do not copy to another site, round one is humorous, round two is much more serious topic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25992520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M1dn1ght_Star/pseuds/M1dn1ght_Star
Summary: This is a collection of my entries for each round of Project Ink on Hogwarts Extreme. I participated in an unofficial 'Black Market' version of the competition for fun along with many friends and these are the result. Hope you enjoy <3
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Round One

Dumbledore waited until he was sure wraith Voldemort was gone before approaching the unconscious Harry from where he'd been standing in the shadows. A quick scan of the boy revealed he was clutching the Philosopher's stone in one hand. Carefully prying the priceless red gem out of Harry's grasp, Dumbledore tucked it one of his hidden pockets, the placement cleverly disguised by a bouncing niffler on the neon purple fabric of his pajamas. He turned back to Harry, the boy-who-had-survived-yet-again, and unsheathed his wand from its position in a arm holster underneath the billowing sleeves of his robes, casting a silent levitation charm and maneuvering Harry through the air so he was in front of the Mirror of Erised. Staring deep into the swirling mist within the glass, Dumbledore wished for a way out of the room. There was a pause and then the smoke churned, breaking apart to reveal a staircase within the mirror. Quite a handy use of some runes on the back of the mirror, if he did say so himself. Dumbledore took a step forward and then melted straight through the glass, ignoring the odd warping around him as he brought Harry through behind him, holding one wrist so as to effectively move the boy up the stairs, which wound upwards and eventually let out through a painting in his office. Madame Pompfrey was promptly summoned and he placed Harry into her competent hands, remaining in his office as she rushed down the hallway to the Hospital Wing with the first year floating in front of her. Sitting down at his desk, Dumbledore felt oddly disoriented and found himself retrieving the philosopher's stone from his pocket, placing it on the wooden surface in front of him and gazing at it. That was a long conversation with an old friend he was not looking forward to. When he pulled the stone out of his robes, he also discovered a forgotten lemon drop in the same pocket that was only slightly fluffy and had a few sparkling chips from the stone on it. Dusting it off, Dumbledore popped the candy in his mouth, humming as he enjoyed his favorite sweet. It wasn't an addiction really, only something to make all his responsibilities more bearable. Closing his eyes, Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair, head thunking against the wood carvings in the middle of the backrest. Wait. The middle? His head usually reached the smooth top of the chair. Jumping up, Dumbledore's eyes flew open and he stopped short. Everything seemed bigger than usual. Rushing to the nearest mirror, he gaped in disbelief at the reflection that faced him. His childhood face stared back at him, skin pale and eyes wide. What on earth had he done? That lemon drop, of course! But the problem was, he had no idea if it was permanent. An even more horrifying thought occurred to him. If he was a kid again, someone would be his guardian and they'd confiscate his lemon drops!

[WC = 502]


	2. Round Two

The sun rose slowly like it was weary that morning, a soft pink and orange watercolor splashed across the sky, highlighting the crumbling walls of the castle and the bodies littering the grounds, left where they had taken their last breaths that previous evening. Other bodies were slowly moving out of the castle’s Great Hall and onto the stained grass, solemn looks on every face as they carried out the somber task of retrieving the dead.  
Above them all, a small figure sat cross-legged in the Astronomy, gazing numbly out across the world. The breeze washed over their face, but they barely felt it, or anything at all. Their dark hair fell across their face untidily and their clothes and arms were coated in a layer of sweat, blood, and dirt. They hardly moved at all for an indeterminable amount of time before quiet footsteps sounded from the stairs, picking carefully through the minefield of rubble that even the farthest reaches of the building had not escaped.  
The figure turned to watch as another joined them on the cold stone, disheveled as they themselves were. The cloaked figure lowered their torn hood, revealing tangled curls and warm eyes. Silently, they sat together in an unsaid understanding of companionship and comfort, joined not long after by another, this time a fiery haired boy with tear-streaked cheeks and a bandaged arm.   
Sunshine fell down softly, lighting their faces as the new dawn arrived. Not a word was said, but all stood at the same time, knowing instinctively it was time to rejoin the rest of the world below. The time was for rebuilding, for carrying on and never giving up. For no matter how dark the sky became before the dawn, the sun would always rise unfailingly, lighting up the scene of resilience that humanity held so strongly to.  
Lives had been lost and yet somewhere, new lives had begun. It was an unending cycle and they were not strong enough to break the chain of their essence. Magic wept with her children for those who had been lost and yet she also channeled her power into the youth who would join their ranks. The power of hope held strong and reignited the flames of those whose inner lights flickered and fell to embers. The world must move on and be reborn, such as a phoenix is entwined with life and death, the magic was woven in the fabric of being and could not stop moving.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edited prompt: Write one piece with a total of 2k words or less from the POV of a minor character from a part of Harry Potter not directly in canon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to post this here :D

Colin Creevey ran through the halls, clutching his school bag in one hand and his camera in the other. He’d stopped to take a photo of an interesting painting and now he was late to Transfiguration class. Professor McGonagall was going to kill him!

Almost tripping on one of the trick stairs as he ran down the last flight before the floor that the classroom was on, Colin managed to catch his balance and quickly hurried down the hallway and made it through the door just before McGonagall closed it with a flick of her wand. Her expression as she saw him come in was not a pleased one.

“Detention this evening, Mr. Creevey. Take a seat, please, so we can begin our lesson without any further disruption.” She said sternly, frowning at him.

It was not the first time he had been late. Colin often got distracted by one of the many fascinating things in the magical school, and thus, his detention record was not the best. The teachers seemed mildly frustrated with him, but he hadn’t lost any points or gotten in trouble for anything other than being tardy and so the punishments were usually mild. The worst would be the time Colin tripped while rushing into the classroom and broke one of the jars on Professors Snape’s table. He had been cleaning cauldrons for weeks.


End file.
